I went to Bistro Daisy the other night. It's been a long, long time since I regularly made the rounds of New Orleans' sublime restaurant scene. But I need new hobbies and I decided that would be one.

It's crazy to live here and not eat out at least five nights a week. (And then eat your doggie bag leftovers the other two.)

The plan is to go to all the great places I've never been to. The plan, it might take years. I've got nothing but time.

So I started with Bistro Daisy. Because it's in an old house and I love New Orleans restaurants that are in old houses.

Really, I'm not very picky.

Once seated, my companion ordered escargot. I was impressed; I didn't figure her an escargot kind of girl. Then again, how does one really know? By the car she drives? From her taste in music?

Some girls I've known before, you say "Escargot" and they think it's a handbag manufacturer.

I didn't want to appear a rube. So I decided to see her bet and raise her: I ordered sweetbreads.

She turned up her nose and said: "Isn't that just a fancy name for something really gross?"

This from the girl who just ordered snails in French.

Strange, the way they name foods. You gotta agree: Snails and thymus glands definitely had a better marketing team working for them than, say, hogshead cheese or blood sausage.

Then again, there's an appealing sense of honesty about the latter.

Anyway, we agreed to share our apps. The snails, they were killer. Then the sweetbreads came. It was at this point I realized that the only time I've ever had sweetbreads before, they were breaded or braised or something like that. All I know is that they were sufficiently disguised so as not to look like rabbit brains.

Bistro Daisy's sweetbreads looked like rabbit brains. But we didn't want to appear bush-league in the company of the well-heeled diners around us, so we ate them while we talked about our mutual apprehension for eating animal organs.

We agreed: It's a textural thing.

Funny, Bistro Daisy buys into the theory that I believe I once heard Emeril espouse: You want to make food taste great? Two words: Pork fat.

The escargot had bacon in it. The sweetbreads had bacon in it. (Not enough to disguise what it was, though.) And my redfish on a bed of gnocchi and wilted pea shoots had bacon in it. And Emeril as correct: It was all excellent. Even the sweetbreads. That is, if you like sweetbreads.